The FBI and Peace and War ordinarily heard at this time throughout the year is taking its usual summer vacation and will return to CBS five weeks from tonight on September 1st. Broadway's My Beat from Times Square to Columbus Circle, the gaudius, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway's My Beat with Larry Thor as detective Danny Clover. Broadway, it's an enchanted island or a prison, a crazy happy dance or a funeral march in blues time. It's a sorcerer's palace with golden mirrors and jeweled fountains or it's a wailing wall corroded with pain. Call it anything you want. It's My Beat. One of the ways to get on My Beat is to infiltrate through the grim lines of people trying to buy tickets to South Pacific. Those people are going to mutiny someday. It was about nine in the morning and a good thing happened to me. The good thing was a kid named Paul Thomas, a sweet kid, a gentle kid, a kid who'd wrapped himself in iron to stow off the pain so many people handed to him for free. Mr. Clover, could I talk to you for a minute? Sure, Paul. Sure, any place, any time. How about in the lobby here? Okay, lobby it is. I'm sure glad to see you, Paul. It's been a long time. Not so long, Mr. Clover. It's only five, six months since you got me that job. Maybe seven months since you caught me breaking into the store. Who remembers what happened seven months ago? How's the job, Paul? How's it working out? Mr. Eric Caron's been treating me fine. He's even had me bonded so I could deliver all that jewelry and stuff. I bet your folks are proud. Yeah, they're real proud, Mr. Clover. I've been meaning to get up to Harlem to visit them. Your mother's a fine woman, Paul. Give her my best. I'll do that, Mr. Clover. She keeps asking about you. Paul, if it's a good thing to see you the way you are. I'm in trouble, Mr. Clover. I think I'm in big trouble. Oh? You want to tell me about it here or we could go someplace and get a quiet cup of coffee? I'd better tell you about it fast, Mr. Clover. A couple of days ago they came... Danny! Danny Clover! How's Broadway's grabber boy? How's the finest of the finest? Oh, hi, Kirk. Am I interrupting something, Danny? The boy won't mind being interrupted, will you, boy? Maybe I mind, Kirk. Oh, no offense, Danny. Come on, ask me how I am. Ask me how I've been doing. How are you? How you been doing? Oh, great. Very, very great, Danny. Yes, sir. Don't I write an introduction to the boy, Danny? Paul, this is Jerry Kirk, a private investigator. Paul Thomas, Jerry Kirk. Hi, Mr. Kirk. Danny, you don't keep up. A smart detective like you should keep up. I'm not a private eye anymore. No? Well, so long, Kirk. See you around. No, no, no. I'm not a private eye anymore. I'm in the plush, Danny. Plush office, plush stipend, furnished by Acme Insurance Company. I investigate insurance losses for them. Oh, it's a lot easier than breaking down doors to haul apartments. But not so much fun, huh, Kirk? Oh, more, Danny, more. It even gives me the price of a couple of tickets to South Pacific here. But how about you, Danny? You still hitting the triple features in the grind houses, Danny? Goodbye, Kirk. Yeah, it's been swell seeing you, Danny. I'm sorry about him, Paul. Now tell me what's on your mind. I can, Mr. Clover. I got to get to work. I'm late. I'm late. Paul, Paul, come back here. That's how the day began, with a kid starting to tell me a big trouble and then running away. It was about five when Paul's big trouble started to catch up with me. A patrolman leaned out of a squad car and handed me a slip of paper. J. Arakarian, the paper said. It said the Paramount Building, and at the bottom it said urgent. I'd been there before. J. Arakarian, lapidary and dealer in precious gems, was on the 14th floor. You went through a door and passed the beam of an electric eye and waded through a carpet to a desk and an olive skinned girl with tight black hair. You gave your name and you got nodded past another beam and some carved oriental wall hangings. To a young man, morning coat cut to hide the lines of his shoulder holster, and sneer cut to fit the scar that ran from his eye to the corner of his mouth. Then a chaperoned hike through another doorway. And there he was, J. Arakarian, impeccable in ascot, striped pants and a Legion of Honor ribbon in his satin lapel. He had another thing, a guest. I asked Mr. Jerry Kirk to be with us, Lieutenant Clover, because his interests lie in the same direction as ours. Hiya Kirk, what's all this about? Mr. Arakarian will tell you, Danny. Sit down, Lieutenant. What do you want to see me about, Mr. Arakarian? About the boy you asked me to hire, about Paul Thomas. You know Paul Thomas, don't you, Danny? What about Paul Thomas? Mr. Arakarian is a polite man, Danny. He's trying to tell you the kid absconded with an awful lot of jewelry. Please, this matter is very dollarish to me. A hundred thousand dollars worth, Danny. How about letting Mr. Arakarian tell it his way, huh, Kirk? He was just phrasing it neatly. A hundred grand, Danny. Right now you just listen, Kirk. What did Paul Thomas do, Mr. Arakarian? He failed to deliver a consignment. He failed to let me know the reason why. He has been gone since this morning. Disappeared. Like a puff of smoke, huh, Mr. Arakarian? That's what you said. They assign a bright eye like you to this, Kirk? Like me, Danny. Mr. Jerry Kirk is from the insurance company. In a matter like this, a one thinks of insurance. In a case like this, one also thinks of how maybe Paul got slugged. One also thinks he could have been robbed, Mr. Arakarian. Ah, ah. Paul Thomas turns up in an alley, Kirk. Slugged. A bet. Yeah, sure. I know human nature, Danny. He's gone a long way with those rocks. Abscondant. He's stolen. In a matter like this, the amount is not a pittance, Lieutenant. A hundred thousand dollars worth of first water jams, jerk cases, setting... Got a list of what's missing? Right here. You see? It makes not an inconsiderable... Yeah, it's not inconsiderable. This very dollar is, Lieutenant. You'll get them back? Dollar is means it can make you cry. But Arakarian's dollar is was different from mine. His was a hundred grand he'd lost. Mine was a boy named Paul Thomas that maybe I'd lost. But it was still only a maybe. I had two things to do. Turn the list of missing jewels into headquarters, which I did. Then call it Paul's home in Harlem. Harlem is a guilt and a scar and a wound. And the wound is a tenement lighted by kerosene lamps. A tenement with barred windows through which you can watch the moonlight darting out on the backs of hungry rats. And Harlem is a place of quiet laughter that stops when it sees you walking up the stairs to the one room in which Paul's family of five live. Yes? Oh, it's Mr. Clover. Hi, Mrs. Thomas. I hardly expected to... Please forgive the way I look. You look fine, Mrs. Thomas. Fine. May I come in? Why, of course. Of course. The children outside playing... It's just as well, Mrs. Thomas. I want to talk to you. Please sit down, Mr. Clover. What is it? Is it about Paul? Why did you see him last, Mrs. Thomas? This morning. He stopped by on his way to work. Is there anything... He doesn't live here anymore? No, Mr. Clover. Paul's a man now, and he needs a place of his own. Where is it, Mrs. Thomas? Is my boy in trouble, Mr. Clover? We don't know. I don't think so, but I have to be sure. Where's his place, Mrs. Thomas? It's a rooming house on 137th Street, 26th East. It's clean. You can actually see the sun. Paul couldn't do anything wrong. Not anymore, Mr. Clover. Paul's good. He's good. He hasn't been by here tonight. No, but that doesn't mean anything. Lots of times he doesn't come by at night, but he'll be here in the morning. He's always here for breakfast in the morning. I think I'll run over to that address you gave me, Mrs. Thomas. I'm sorry I can't stay and visit with you. You'll let me know about my boy, Mr. Clover. Whatever way it is. You let me know. It'll be all right, Mrs. Thomas. It has to be all right. Outside, it was one block north and two to my left of the subway station at 125th and Lennox. In those three blocks, you could feel the breeze from the East River fighting a losing battle of the Heat. But it wasn't the Heat that stopped me. It was Squad Car 15, Patrolman Florio at the controls. Not bad, Florio. Three-point landing. Hi, Lieutenant. Come on, get in. Thanks. You headed uptown? Well, that depends, Lieutenant. Wherever you say. Uptown? You better call headquarters first. I've been cruising, looking for you. Headquarters said you were in Harlem. Call them, Florio. Sure. Patrol Car 15 calling headquarters. Come in. Patrol Car 15 calling headquarters. Headquarters receiving Patrol Car 15. Go ahead, 15. I take it, Danny. Yeah. Danny Clover speaking. Danny, Dr. Aglia speaking. About that Arrocarian robbery. Guy named Jerry Kirk called you. Yeah? Said he wanted you there when he took Paul Thomas. Oh, where's all this taking place? 137th Street. A condemned tenement. Three houses beneath the northeast corner on Lennox. Ten o'clock, the guy said. That's right now, Dr. Aglia. Thanks. Let's go, Florio. You heard the man. Right. Florio. Yellow tenement? You're only giving me a lift down the block. Turn off that siren, huh? Hello, Danny. Glad you showed. Headquarters said you had Paul. You got him, Kirk? He's in that tenement, Danny. But he materialized out of that puff of smoke. How do you know he's in there? Look, Danny, a guy steals $100,000 worth of jewelry. It's hot. He can't get rid of it. So he makes a deal with the insurance company. The deal Paul made was for 15 grand. He got in touch with you? Yeah, sure. He said meet him here. So I got in touch with you. I'm double-crossing him, Danny. I called in the cops. You wouldn't want it any other way. Yeah. Let's go in. And Kirk, keep your gun in your pocket. Danny, you know I seldom carry a gun, and tonight's one occasion when I don't. Come on. Hey, it's pretty dark. Lucky I brought a flash. Paul? Paul Thomas? Let me handle it, Kirk. Paul? Paul, it's Danny Clover. Paul? Maybe he isn't here, Kirk. He's here. That sound came from down in the basement. Kirk, somebody's shooting downstairs and not at us. Yeah, and somebody's taking a powder, too. Let's get him. Don't you think it's time you got out your gun, Danny? Yeah, it's all changed now. Hey, shine your light over there. Where? Back in the staircase. Yeah. Hey, Danny, a body. Danny, look, he's got a gun. Paul. Paul. He's dead, Danny. Your boy's dead. Why was he killed? He was a bad boy, Danny. A bad boy with bad company, and the company just took a powder. How do you like your boy now, Danny? You are listening to Broadway's My Beat with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Casey, crime photographer, finds an innocent-eyed young woman riding a murder go-round tonight. As he joins her, his girlfriend, reporter Anne Williams and Ethelbert, the magnificent bartender, caution him to go slow. For a merry ride with murder, join Casey and his pals tonight. And also be around for second-class passenger, another thrilling study in escape. Crime photographer and escape are Thursday night features of most of these same CBS stations. Now, back to Broadway's My Beat. One thing about Broadway, you can become a name overnight. All you have to do is have three current wives or ride four winners in a row. Or you can do it the way Paul Thomas did, get caught up in a hundred thousand dollar jewel theft, and keep your mouth shut about it by being found dead in a Harlem tenement. Not that Paul Thomas would make much of a splash, but he would make a fast 30 seconds conversation piece over cheesecake and coffee. A cop uses up the night begging, pleading, grubbing for a break in a murder case. Then he goes home and begs for sleep. And in the morning he goes back to his office at headquarters and starts all over again. And that's where it broke. Come in. Come in. Come in. Danny. Danny, open your eyes. I got a surprise for you. You open them up, Tyrone. I got something on the Paul Thomas case. What? Yeah, see? You open your eyes all by yourself. It's not hard, is it, Danny? I could close yours just as easy. What do you got? Well, one of the Ericurian jewels showed up at a pawn shop. When? Ten-thirty last night. Ten-thirty? That was after Paul's murder. How come you wait till now to give it to me? Easy, Danny. Take it easy. All right, all right, but how come? Larry of Larry's Pawn Shops Limited just phoned it in. Says he didn't get our list till ten this morning. Larry, sir, get me a squad car to tag you. I'll pick it up out front. Okay. Danny. Yeah? I know what this means to you. Sorry I kidded. That's okay, Sergeant. It's okay. But get that squad car. Danny, boy. Danny, you. This is quite an honor. Hi, Larry. Hi. I could have saved you the trip if you had just called me. Needed the air. Okay, Larry, what do you got? Danny, you're mind-stepping in the back room. I'm trying to close the deal. Sometimes it embarrasses my clientele to see me consorting with a detective. Ain't it a shame? Give it to me, Larry, and quick. Danny, this isn't like you. You want me to show you what I can really be like? Okay, okay, Danny. Okay, I'll get it for you. Think it over, Miss. I'll be right with you. Here it is, Danny. You see? This diamond ring matches up exactly with the one on the Arcaria-Lissue boy sent me. If I say so myself, it's a beauty. Yeah, yeah, but who pawned it? It's on a ticket. A girl named Ellen West lives at this address on 115th Street. At least that's the name of the dress she gave me. You know where to send it. Send the ring. It hides me to part with it. Isn't it polite the way I cooperate with you boys, Danny? You'll remember it, won't you? Sure. By the way, what did you give the girl for the ring? It's way too grand. I gave her $600. Can't hear you, Larry. How much? $600. Still can't hear. It was way too grand. I gave her $600. Oh, Danny, I could kill you. Hey, mister, you didn't hear what I said. I was just kidding. Pay no attention. I didn't mean it. I'm ready to offer you a little more. The girl whose name might be Ellen West lived in a street that might have been anywhere. Could have been a market street in the slums of Madrid or Rome or Athens or New Orleans. It could have been anywhere. Right now it was under the bridge of the New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad. Right now it was a street where Paul's murderer might be waiting in a dark room behind a locked door, waiting for a knock that had to come. Yes? Who is it? The police. Open up. Please, why you come here? I haven't done anything. Are you Ellen West? That's right. That's my name. How you know my name? I don't know you. I'm Danny Clover, Ellen. Broadway special detail. I'd like to ask you some questions. Mr. Danny Clover? Huh? Paul told me a lot about you. Please come in, Mr. Clover. Thanks. You knew Paul Thomas? I knew him. I knew him better than anybody. We were going to be married. How old are you? Sixteen, Ellen. Eighteen. Going on nineteen. That's not too young to get married, Mr. Clover. I mean it wouldn't have been. Ellen, you pawned a ring yesterday. Where'd you get it? Did Paul give it to you? Where would Paul get a ring like that, Mr. Clover? Where'd you get it, Ellen? Came in the mail. You have the package it came in. I threw it away, Mr. Clover. I threw it away. Because I didn't want to know where to send it back. Maybe you should have given it to the police. Maybe I should have done what I did. I got six hundred dollars for that ring, Mr. Clover. With six hundred dollars, two people like Paul and me could get married. Did you tell Paul about the ring? I didn't see Paul yesterday, Mr. Clover. I didn't seem to tell him about the ring or anything. I've got so much to tell him. Paul's mother said he had a room of his own. Did you ever see it? I saw it. I met his roommate, Joe Kendall. His roommate? Well, not exactly. You see, Mr. Clover, where Paul lived, that room of his own, that was just a place where he could sleep for eight hours. Joe Kendall had it for the other eight hours. They do that a lot up here. Yeah, I know. I know. Now, that's all, Ellen. Just one thing. You won't go away. Where would I go, Mr. Clover? Mr. Clover? Yes, Ellen? Here's the six hundred dollars. I've got no use for it now. The hotbed address of Paul's roommate, Joe Kendall, didn't pan out. But a suddenly forgetful landlord suddenly regained his memory when he put on a pair of wire-in glasses and examined my police badge. His cooperation from that instant was a thing of joy. Joe Kendall was working right now, mister. Joe Kendall worked in the change booth in the subway station at 59th Street. Want some change, mister? No, Dave. Information. What kind of information? Your name, Joe Kendall? That all depends on what connection the name's being used. In connection with the police. Show me. Try this. Yeah? Yeah, that badge says you're the police. Says my name's Joe Kendall. What can I do for you, Lieutenant? It's about Paul Thomas, Joe. I read about him in the papers this morning. I'm sorry about Paul. How sorry? Lieutenant? Oh, wait a minute. Here you are, lady. Two dimes and a nickel. Lieutenant, it's this way. Maybe I asked you a bad question, Joe. Not at all. I'm sorry about Paul, Lieutenant. As sorry as I am for any man who died the way Paul did. What about Paul? What did he tell you about himself? Things like I'm tired, Joe. That's what he used to say to me. When he woke me up because it was his turn to sleep, he'd tell me things like that. That's all? Other things too, Lieutenant, but that was a general idea. Something else, Joe. That ring on your finger, where'd you get it? Are you going to believe me? Okay, Lieutenant, I'll tell you anyhow. I got it in the mail yesterday. You should have let the police know. I should have, but I didn't. Maybe I was going to. Maybe I was going to pawn it. I don't know. You'd better let me have it. Sure, sure. Here. Take it. Lieutenant, I'm in trouble now, huh? I guess right now you come under a couple of laws in the penal code, Joe, which one escapes me. Just don't run away. I'll be here, Lieutenant. Here or in Harlem, one place or the other. It was a decision I had to make about the girl, Ellen West, and about Joe Kendall, and it was a decision I made. They turned up with a part of the missing jewelry and a strange story how they'd got it, and I didn't book them. I didn't put a tail on them. If they told the truth, it gelled an idea that was shaping itself. If they'd lied, I'd know it before the day was over. Back at headquarters, I made out my report that way and turned it in. Then there was nothing to do but trade stairs with Sergeant Tartaglia and wait for the report from the technical boys. Well, I don't know, Danny. I don't know. I'm not sure you did the right thing. Those two might have been holding back. Technical lab reports, Lieutenant. Ballistics, chemical, prints. All of them. Thanks. Okay, Lieutenant. Ballistics, nothing. I figured there'd be nothing there. Hey. So long, Tartaglia. Hey, Danny, where you going? Take a look at those reports. They'll make your red face even redder. Those photoelectric guys wink even at you, huh? Eric Carion? They make no distinction, Lieutenant, between friend or enemy. They're ever alert, ever suspicious. Yeah. You kept me waiting a long time, Eric Carion. A jeweler has many things to take care of, Lieutenant. Sometimes you must keep even the police waiting. But you're not lonely. Did not Mr. Attu amuse you? Oh, so that's his name. No, your flunky Attu didn't amuse me. He's so silent, so sinister. Is that the word? It's a good word for Attu. Tell me, Attu, that shoulder holster you wear under your morning coat, how do you avoid a bulge? You must have a good tailor. I wish I had a tailor like that. I would send you the name of Attu's tailor, Lieutenant. Is that all you wanted? That's just part of it. I'd like to have a look at your vaults. You wish to buy some jewelry, Holst, say? No, no, I'd just like to find some lost jewelry. Stolen, it says on this list. Stolen from a Mr. Eric Carion. That's why I'd like to have a look at your vaults. You're insane, but I will humor you. But first, the trifle. You have a warrant, Lieutenant? How do you know about that? I clean forgot to get myself a warrant. But as you say, it's a trifle. How about the vaults? I do not think so, Lieutenant. In your country, I have learned to do everything, comil fo. How? Comil fo, translation, as it should be. Thanks, I like to learn new words. A warrant would be as it should be. Then I'll just have to get the vault open myself. Atu! Tell your flunky to take his hands off me. Atu is a very difficult man to tell things to. Not only does he not talk often, often he does not listen. Tell him to take his hands off me. Perhaps you could persuade him yourself, Lieutenant. Yeah, yeah, perhaps I could. Oh, Atu, I went and spoiled your crisis. You, you released when I, I, I... Kirk, Kirk. Well, Kirk, the eminent investigator. Today on occasion for carrying a gun. You didn't have to shoot Arakarian. I did, Danny. To save you from getting knocked off, I had to do just that. Save me? What are you talking about? Well, look at him. Look at Arakarian's hand. He was just getting ready to pull a luger. Yeah. Okay, Kirk, this wraps it up. Let me have your gun. What for? Ballistics wanted to check it against the slugs in the body. But you saw me shoot him, Danny. The gun, Kirk. Are you off your rocker, Danny? The gun. I've got a permit for this gun. The gun! Ow! Yeah. Thanks for the gun. Oh, sure. Sure, Danny, now that I know you were sincere about warning it. Well, like you said, this wraps it up. You figured it a little ahead of me, that's all. Tell me how. Oh, easy. Arakarian never parts with the jewels and reports them stolen for insurance money. Yeah, true, true. Tell me, Kirk, how do you figure Paul Thomas figures? All so simple. Arakarian tells the kid to make it look like the kid ran away. Well, maybe Arakarian wanted to do it another way and the kid barked. Yeah, that's right, Kirk. Paul came to me yesterday and started to tell me he was in trouble. It adds up. It adds up neat. You know what else? Two of the gems showed up with two of Paul's friends. Arakarian mailed them to throw off suspicion. Clever, real clever. Yeah, but here's the twist. The gun Paul was holding in that tenement cellar had no fingerprints on it. He was dead before he went in that tenement, Kirk. Dead men leave no prints. Paul Thomas was dead before I saw you, Kirk. Hey, that is a twist. That's seen in the condemned tenement. You and Arakarian staged it. That's why I want your gun, to check it against the slugs they took from Paul's body. You're crazy, Danny. Listen, how else I'm crazy? You killed Paul. You took my position and he had none of it, so you killed him. And you killed Arakarian so he wouldn't implicate you. You stink, copper. You stink, but you won't take me. I've been waiting for you to do that, Kirk. You are waiting. That's for Paul. For Paul. For Paul. What stopped me was something gentle. A tap on the shoulder, it was all, but it stopped me. A man from headquarters looked down at me and his tap was gentle. He said that was enough. I quit, but I didn't believe him. He said Kirk was something the law had to take care of. Then I had to believe him because I'm a cotton. In the mid-afternoon heat, Broadway is a desert. A desert littered with mirages of what might be men or women. You touch some and they vanish. You touch others and they snarl and slink away. It's real or it's phantom. It's Broadway, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway, my beat. Broadway's My Beat with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover is produced and directed by Gordon T. Hughes with script by Morton Fine and David Friedkin. Musical direction is by Lud Gluskin. Be sure to join us next week, same time, same station, for Broadway's My Beat. Mr. Keen, the famed tracer of lost persons, goes society tonight. Knowing Mr. Keen, you'll realize at once that it's not so much the question of which ford, but which suspect. Mr. Keen's latest adventure, the society murder case, will follow in just a few moments on most of these same CBS network stations. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
